


Thanksgiving

by PropertyOfThaJoker



Series: Calendar [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Kinda, Smutt, Student-Teacher Relationship, Vermont, maine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 21:32:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13175616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PropertyOfThaJoker/pseuds/PropertyOfThaJoker
Summary: As she walked in and began to take off her coat, gloves, and scarf, Ben stood in the doorway and watched her. He wanted her to be at every Thanksgiving with his family, every Christmas, every Easter, every Fourth of July. They didn’t even have a relationship title at this point: boyfriend, girlfriend, that bullshit, but he knew that he wanted to wake up in this lake house with her every Thanksgiving morning. He wanted to love Rey for the rest of his life. He wanted to be her family.Was is possible to fall in love over the course of a few days, or had he been in love with her since he met her six years ago?





	Thanksgiving

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea that sprung upon me. Enjoy! Let me know what you think.

“You can’t, Fisher,” he reminded her, rolling up his sleeves. “You can’t grade them based on effort.”

“But, Ben,” she pleaded, “I know he is trying so hard, and there’s no way he’s going to pass the final-”

“No!” She sometimes wondered why she had fought to be a T.A. for Professor Ben Solo. She’d loved him as her own T.A. before he completed his Ph.D., but now as she was finishing her master’s degree, she was slowly but surely beginning to hate him. “I know that you have a lot of compassion for your students, but effort doesn’t cut it in literature. On this level, they aren’t working with theory, they’re working with construct. I can’t pass a kid onto the next level if they’re not capable of making it.”

Rey nodded, her shoulders slumping. “I tried, Cliff,” she whispered. 

Ben chuckled, leaning back in his desk chair. “You can’t mother them.”

“I’m not! I’m… I’m being kind,” Rey said back. 

“Rey.” Ben pouted, nodding his head to the side. “If anything, they don’t want you to ‘mother’ them. They left home for a reason. Hell, my mother lives forty miles from me and it’s still a chore.”

Rey thought about her own parents, long gone now, and her grandfather had passed when she was 14 in boarding school, leaving her in the care of a nanny during holidays. That nanny became her family. “Appreciate them while you have them.”

_She’s gorgeous_ , he thought. Dressed like an ad for some wholesome clothing label, in tight gray leggings, a thick, dark red turtleneck sweater, Wellington boots, and pearl earrings; matching red lips. She was timeless. He could tell the day he met her that she’d been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but he was aware of some of her story. _The wealthy British girl with no family left._

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving, Rey?” he asked her.

She shrugged. “Not much of anything, really. I’m going to my lake house in New Vineyard.”

“Maine? My parents live a little over an hour from there in Lincoln,” Ben said. “You should join us for dinner.”

She smiled, laughing as if that was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. “Thanksgiving isn’t exactly important to me, Ben. I’m not American.”

“I know that, but you shouldn’t be alone, even though we will be celebrating escaping from your people.” They both smirked at each other before getting back to business. 

“I never said I was going to be alone,” Rey replied, her eyes softening, her head tilting to the side. “And be honest; you hate me.”

Ben suddenly sat up straight, eyes wide. “I don’t hate you! Why would you think that?”

“You’re hard on me,” she said, her voice escalating. “I loved your class sections in undergrad, and you were nice then, and now you act like I’m... I don’t know. Just something not good enough.”

Ben looked out the window briefly before looking back to her. “I’m tough with you because I know your potential - I saw it the first week of class your freshman year. Rey, you’re absolutely brilliant, you just let the wrong emotions guide you too often. Great for writing, not the best for teaching students.” Ben watched as she crossed her arms across her chest, huffing. “And I know you think I’m a hardass-”

“I absolutely do.” She picked up her expensive nylon and leather tote bag up off the ground. 

“I can prove you wrong,” he blurted out before he even realized what he had said.

Rey snorted in amusement. “And how do you suppose you’ll do that?”

“You go on to your lake house, and if you join my family for dinner…” She groaned, slumping against his doorframe. “… I’ll pass Cliff Garret.” 

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. “What?”

Ben smiled. “Like you said, he’s a good kid. Just stress to him that English-Creative Writing is certainly not the major for him - the kid can’t write creatively for shit.” He gawked as she ran a hand through her shoulder length hair. “And you can never, ever, _ever_ tell anyone that we made this deal.”

“You’re sure your family won’t mind?”

He beamed, taking off his glasses. His mother would actually be thrilled that he’d be bringing home a girl for the holiday. “Oh, they’ll be delighted.” As she turned to leave, Ben spoke again. “And Rey…” She turned around, her face like stone. “… please bring your guest since you _aren’t_ _going to be alone_.”  
  
Rey walked out of his office, and Ben laughed to himself. 

* * *

“Call Leia Organa,” Ben said later that evening, alone in his Jeep, speaking through the Bluetooth. After only one ring, the call was answered. 

“Ben! Are you packed to come home tomorrow?” He was driving up to his parents’ the next day, Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. 

“Already done, mother.” He huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “And I’m bringing a guest. I’ve already asked, so you can’t say no.”   
  
Ben heard his mother gasp on the other end. He knew what was coming… “Is it a girl?” 

Sighing, he prepared himself for the sea of questions. “Yes, moth-”

“Han! He’s bringing home a girl for Thanksgiving!” she yelled, causing him to flinch. “Oh, Ben, what’s she like? What’s her name?” 

“She’s my T.A.; she’s in grad school. We aren’t together.” He could practically hear the frown that was surely forming on his mother’s face. “She’s lost every member of her family, she’ll be alone, and even though she insists that this isn’t important to her, since she’s not an American, I just…” He smiled to himself, adding, “Her name is Rey.” 

“Rey,” his mother repeated. “Is she a _pretty_ grad student?” 

“Mom,” he grumbled, pulling into his driveway. 

“I’d like grandchildren one day, and you're not her advisor _forever_ , Ben.” He parked the car and slumped in the seat. 

She was pretty. She was flawless. He’d been fascinated with her for over six years now, and she as perfect in every way he could imagine.

“She’s beautiful,” he said softly, “extremely intelligent, and has a temper that might rival your own.” 

“She’ll fit in perfectly, then.” 

After the call, Ben got out of his car and walked into his secluded home. 

* * *

Rey made the drive to New Vineyard the next day, excited about reading for leisure for the first time in nearly seven years and binge-watching the newest season of _Game of Thrones_. 

What was Ben Solo’s family like? He was always talking about his uncle, the man that had inspired him to write, but he had never mentioned his parents. _They both had to be extremely attractive to have made such a gorgeous son._ "No, Rey!” she said out loud, turning off the radio. “No.” 

* * *

“I hear that a lady will be joining us,” his Uncle Luke said, sitting across from Ben in his mother’s office.

“She’s telling everyone, isn’t she?” Ben took a huge swig of his whiskey. “She’s going to be alone, I didn’t want her to be by herself.” 

Luke smiled gently, looking down at his own glass. “Well, that was very kind of you to invite her.”  
  
Ben shrugged, finishing off the drink. “I guess.” 

The older man watched his nephew, knowing all too well what was going on in his head. “It’s okay to like her, Ben. She’s not a child; you aren’t closer to an AARP membership that you are to her age. I think you forget that you’re only 33.”

“I don’t like her,” he replied, looking up at his uncle, irritation written across his face. 

Luke chuckled and took a sip of his drink. “You’ve never been a good liar, Ben.”

* * *

Rey arrived at the lake house and smiled. All of her favorite memories with her grandfather happened here. It was where she learned how to swim, how to take a fish off a hook. The old house was her favorite place. Opening her trunk, she pulled out her suitcase and bags of groceries, officially starting her much needed break.

* * *

 

_Stupid! You’re an idiot!_ he thought to himself. _She’s your student. She’s got more options than you…_

Ben turned the television off and closed his eyes. Falling asleep on the couch would be just fine. Who cared if it was only eight at night?

“Hey, kid. Wake up.” 

He opened his eyes to see his father. “Yes?”

In an old sweatshirt from some ski lodge and jeans that had seen better days, his father somehow still managed to look like a Ralph Lauren ad. “There’s a big snowstorm coming, and your mom says you need call your girlfriend and tell her to come on over.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He rubbed his eyes, sighing, standing. 

“Go talk to your mom,” Han said, watching his son walk off.

Ben found his mother in the kitchen, rolling out pie dough. “Call Rey and tell her to leave right now and come here. We have a spare bedroom, so make sure she knows that she’ll be no trouble. The storm is worse than they’d anticipated, and if she waits until tomorrow, she’ll be snowed-in all by herself.”  
  
_Oh, great,_ he thought. _Rey will love that text._ _‘Hey, so there’s a storm coming, and I’m requesting that you stay in the room next to mine.’_ Ben looked out the window, the snow already two inches deep, the flakes gigantic. “Fucking shit! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”  
  
“Ben!” his mother replied. “Language!” 

He sniffled, leaning back on the countertop. “She drives a little Tesla coupe. There’s no way she can get here in this weather, as fast as the snow is accumulating.” He chuckled out of frustration, shaking his head. “I’ll have to go get her.” 

Leia put down the rolling pin and looked at her son. “Is your emergency bag stocked?”   
  
“Yes.” By emergency bag, she meant the duffle bag that he kept in his trunk that had everything he should ever need should he become stranded in the snow: a change of clothes, thermal blankets, portable phone chargers, rations, fresh water, a first-aid kit, amongst other things; you name it, it was in there. Everyone in the family was forced to keep one in their car since his mom and uncle got stranded in the snow when they were seventeen. “I’ll call her.” 

* * *

Rey grit her teeth. “I don’t want to give your family any more trouble than what I already am.” There was no way in hell Ben Solo was coming to pick her up in the dark and drive her through a snowstorm back to his parents’ house.

“Trust me, you’re giving no one any trouble. My mother will be worried sick about you if you aren’t here - that’d be trouble.”

She sighed, rolling her neck, in disbelief of what she was about to say. “It’s 19775 Lake Mountain Drive…” 

* * *

Ben headed toward the door, zipping up his heavy down coat. “Please be careful,” his mother said, following him to the door. “Are you wearing your shearling boot liners? Your feet always get so cold.” 

“I’ve got them on.” He hugged his mother for the first time since he got there. “I’ll call when we head back this way.”   
  
His father and uncle walked back into the house, stomping their feet on the mat to rid themselves of the snow. “I started up your car so it’d be warm. I know how you hate for your toes to get cold.” Ben laughed, pulling away from his mother, hugging his father. Han’s eyes became wide and Leia shrugged, but the gesture wasn’t unwelcome. 

“And the driveway’s not clear, but you learned how to drive on these roads,” Uncle Luke interjected. “You all will have to visit me in Arizona for Thanksgiving and Christmas next year. I’m done with snow.”   
  
Ben let go of his father and nodded toward his uncle. “I’ll keep you all updated.” 

* * *

“Jesus Christ!” Ben shouted, slamming his fist into the steering wheel, the horn blaring. His Jeep had slid into the ditch, taking out Rey’s mailbox. 

“Ben!” he heard faintly. “Ben!” Rey was running toward his Jeep. Opening the door, he slowly stepped out of the car. “Are you alright?” She was rubbing his arms, up and down rapidly, trying to warm him up. 

“I’m fine, but I murdered your mailbox.” She chuckled in response. “My car will be fine. No way I can move it on my own, though, and you can’t, either.”   
  
“What?” she asked, confused. 

“I think my mom’s about to be very upset.” 

* * *

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Someone can come get us tomorrow if the snow stops,” he told his mother. “It’s going to freeze over, though. It might be a few days.”

Rey brewed tea as she watched Ben talk to his mother. “She stocked up pretty well.” She turned around and looked inside the pantry; she’d bought everything she could’ve needed just in case she backed out of dinner with his family. She was here until Sunday either way. Maybe later at this rate. “I was able to get my bag out, so I’ve got clothes, at least.” He smiled. “Love you, too.” 

“Is she upset?” Rey asked, pouring tea into a cup, handing it to him. 

“She’s just worried. She always worries.” He took a sip of the tea. “Thank you.” 

“No problem.” She poured herself a cup and looked out the window over the lake. Surely it would freeze, too. “You should plug your phone in. It’s unlikely that we’ll lose power with the lines being underground, but just in case.” He nodded, watching as she stirred honey into her own cup. “There’s two spare bedrooms, and I’d recommend taking the spare down the hall.” 

“What about you?”   
  
“Mine’s next door to yours, if you decide to use that one. It shares a fireplace with mine, so you should be nice and toasty.” 

* * *

 

Ben walked into the room began pulling items out of his duffle bag.

  * Sweatpants
  * Jeans
  * Long underwear
  * Socks
  * A scarf
  * Gloves
  * A hat
  * A long-sleeved shirt 
  * 3 pairs of underwear
  * Sneakers
  * Snow boots
  * And…



He chuckled at what he touched next.

When Ben had his first girlfriend, his father stuffed a huge box of condoms in his emergency bag. 

_“Don’t tell your mother, kid, or she’ll skin me alive.”_ She certainly would have. _“Last thing I want is a seventeen year-old father as a son. You don’t want that either.”_ Ever since then, he bought a new box every time they expired. While it had been convenient in high school and college, he was an adult now and wasn’t having sex in cars anymore. Well, he hadn’t done that in a while. The boxes were now used as his back-up stash, but this box didn’t appear to have been opened.

He pulled out the box, looking at the expiration date. This box had a year before it bit the dust. _No,_ he told himself, _don’t even think about it._

He heard a knock at the door and quickly shoved the box in his bag. “Come in.” 

Rey cracked the door open. “I have a new toothbrush here for you and some toothpaste.” He thanked her and took the items, opening the door wider. “And there’s soap, shampoo, and towels in your bathroom; I have conditioner that you can borrow. You seem like you probably use that. Also, I know you’re probably tired, but if you’d like, I’m watching _Game of Thrones Season 7_ , and you’re welcome to join me.” 

* * *

The couch was a sectional, sitting in front of a large fireplace, the TV hanging over it. Rey had fires going in both fireplaces downstairs, determined to keep the house as warm as possible. “If you need to wash anything, we have a washer until the pipes freeze. I’ve put all the faucets on drip.”

“How do you know what to do in a situation like this?” He was amused by her self-sufficiency; impressed, but amused. 

“Google. Have you tried it before?” 

He smiled, shaking his head. “Smart ass.” His smile continued as she giggled and blushed, burying herself in the couch with thick blankets. 

_Adorable, too._

* * *

She’d fallen asleep by the middle of the second episode. She looked kind of cute curled up on the couch, her hands above her head. If he told himself he hadn’t thought about pinning her hands above her head, he’d be lying. “Rey,” he nudged her shoulder. “Sweetheart, wake up.” 

She stirred, stretching, arching her back. He’d thought about that before, too. “I slept through the show, didn’t I?” 

“It’s okay. We can watch it again tomorrow,” he said, kneeling at her side. “You’ll regret sleeping on the couch in the morning if you don’t go to your bed.” 

And here he had been fine with sleeping on the much smaller couch in his mother’s office, completely ignoring his childhood bedroom down the hall.

“I suppose you’re right.” He helped her up, and she yawned, stretching again. The wind howled against the house, and they both turned toward the window.   
  
“Where’s the outside light switch?” Ben asked. Without a reply, Rey walked over and turned it on. “Holy fuck.” 

The scene outside was massive, tons more snow than had been there when he arrived at the lake house… and it was still coming down.   
  
“Oh no,” Rey whispered, her eyes sad, “you won’t be home with your parents for Thanksgiving.” 

He walked toward the switch and turned it off. “Well, we’ll have to have our own Thanksgiving then, won’t we?”

* * *

“My mother is postponing Thanksgiving dinner to Saturday,” he said the next morning, walking into the large pantry. “What were you preparing for here? Feeding an army?”

“I go a little overboard, and most are items that will keep. My nanny usually comes here for Christmas with me.” Ben sat down at the counter, holding his coffee mug in both hands.

“Nanny?” 

“After my grandfather died when I was in boarding school, my holidays were spent with my nanny that had been with me since he brought me home. He was older, he couldn’t do it by himself; she ended up being his primary caregiver when he became too sick to do most things for himself. Had it not been for Maz, he probably would have passed sooner.” 

No wonder she had told him that he should appreciate his parents more. “Your grandfather was American?” 

“Yes, as was my father,” she said. “My dad met my mother when he was backpacking through Europe. He was leaving his hotel in London, on his way to Heathrow to head back to the states and saw her. He decided he’d need to be spending a few more days away from home.” He noticed that she smiled at the thought. “I think that’s why I write the way that I do. They had a story that not many people have.” 

Ben smiled, thinking about some of her characters. She’d written a story once about two people meeting in London after a backpacking trip. Everything she wrote stemmed from real life. 

“We’ll have a nice Thanksgiving here, nevertheless. I don’t have turkey, but I have a whole chicken we can roast. A pot roast we can cook in the dutch oven with some vegetables, and stuff to make chicken noodle soup with. One for today, one for tomorrow, I suppose; one for Saturday just in case. I’ve got things to make lunch and breakfast with, too.” She opened up the fridge, and began to quietly count.   
  
“What’re you doing?” 

She giggled, shutting the fridge door. “I cook with a lot of butter. I was counting sticks.” He nodded. “I hope you’re prepared for a plethora of desserts.”  


* * *

“Who taught you to cook?” he asked after swallowing a bite of chicken. “This is amazing.”

“Maz,” Rey replied, buttering a piece of bread. “She taught me how to cook as if it was a hobby, not a necessity. That made it more fun.” 

She looked perfect, somehow. And she looked like she belonged here. Her little fair isle sweater that he’d seen before, gray leggings; those duck boots that she appeared to be so fond of still on her feet from when she decided they needed to walk out to road to see if any cars had driven by - they hadn’t. 

“I know we’re stuck here for at least another day, but this is a better Thanksgiving than we would have had with my family.” She seemed surprised, but continued eating. “They would have had so many questions for you. I mean, you’re still welcome to come on Saturday, but if you’ve had enough of me by then, I’d understand.”

Rey hummed, shaking her head. “Your mom sounds very nice, and I want to meet the uncle you’re always going on about. Do you have a father at all?”

Ben smiled sadly. “He’ll be there, we just don’t really get along all that well.” He took another bite of chicken. “We did until I decided I didn’t want to be a mechanical engineer like him, like he’d always thought I’d be. He now has no one to pass the firm onto, and... well, he would’ve liked to have kept that in the family.”

Rey nodded. “So you’re an only child. No wonder you’re difficult.” 

“Hey!” he replied with laughter. “You are, too!”

“Yes but I don’t go and whine to the department chair when I don’t get my way.” 

Ben smirked and put his fork down. “That’s because you come and whine to me!” 

Rey mischievously smiled back before putting down her own fork, looking at him from across the table. “I do not!”

There was a twinkle in her eyes that he had never seen before.

“Yes you do! You know you do.” Her smile of response was softer this time. “And I’d hate it if you didn’t.”

Rey tilted her head to the side. “You would?”

“Immensely.” 

* * *

She had made a pound cake which she drizzled with hot caramel sauce, handing him a slice. “Do you want anything stronger to drink than beer?”

“What do you have?” he asked, watching her ass as she turned around. 

“Well, my grandfather used to like to have a glass of scotch. I think we still have the special glasses for it, too.” She procured an expensive looking bottle and quickly found the small glasses. “Here we are.”

Ben watched as she poured him a glass. “You won’t be drinking any?”

“I’ll stick with my wine, I believe. Not much for scotch. With that in mind, you’re welcome to as much as you’d like. That’s his old collection.” He seemed stunned that she would offer him her grandfather’s old scotch, which, just guessing from her upbringing, was probably the best of the best when her grandfather had bought it, and was now even better with age.

Ben slowly brought the glass to his lips, taking a sip. “This is unbelievably good,” he said softly, sniffing the liquid.

“That was one of his big investments, a distillery in Scotland. I own his share now, and I abhor scotch!” Rey giggled to herself, clearing their plates, holding a hand up when Ben tried to help. “You can help tomorrow after your charm has worn off.”

He found himself laughing again. “Oh, it doesn’t go away, Rey.”

“Says you.” 

Her smile said otherwise as she turned around and walked toward her room, glass of wine in hand.

Ben found the record player in the corner, behind it a large stack of albums. Frank Sinatra, the My Fair Lady soundtrack, Otis Redding, amongst others. Her grandfather must have been a fascinating man.

He began to hum along to hum along to _I’ve Been Loving You For Too Long_ , realizing yet not caring that it might be highly inappropriate to play with the suggestion of dancing with his student. 

“You found the record player,” he heard, turning around. “My grandfather loved playing records.” He looked down to her feet, beginning to chuckle at the sight of her slippers. “What?”

The slippers were shearling-lined and suede, brown. They weren’t cute and dainty like he’d expected. “Just not what I was expecting from you.” She flopped down onto the sofa, watching as he stood where he’d been. “I was going to ask you to dance.”  
  
“Oh, Ben! I look terrible.” She covered her face with her hands.  
  
“Quite hardly,” he said as he went to sit next to her. “Thank you for taking care of me today.”  
  
Rey uncovered her face, looking up at him, his hand on her knee. “I didn’t take care of you. I cooked for you.”  
  
“And I’m staying in your house, and you made sure I had everything I needed, and you cooked the most amazing chicken I’ve ever had in my life.”

She smiled gently, seemingly proud. “You just think it was so great because I’m sure that you order take-out all the time.” 

He smiled, running a hand through his hair. “But it really was great. And this house is amazing. I can see why you like it here.” She looked gorgeous laying there beneath him. How had everything this weekend even happened? “Still think I’m a hardass?” 

“Oh, for sure,” she said, sitting up from her position. “Just not a _complete_ hardass.” Rey giggled, blushing. “I really have had a great time, though. Who knew you were so much fun?”  
  
He sat down next to her, a little buzzed from the alcohol he’d had with his meal, but not enough to tell him to fully go in for the kill. “You’re so cute.”

“I am, am I?” She played along, touching his shoulder. He put down the glass of scotch on the coffee table.   
  
“Oh yes. I’ve thought you were cute since I met you.” He was even shocked by the confession. “Dance with me?”  
  
The music played on, and Rey stood, Ben following. Her arms looped around his neck and his around her waist. “It’s not going to be the same when we get back to school, is it?” she asked. 

Somehow she’d felt it, too, this spark they had that had fully lit aflame in less than twenty-four hours since he’d arrived at the lake house. His time spent in the house with her had seemingly relieved so much of the tension that had existed between them for the last six years.

“I don’t want it to be.” Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “I like you, Rey. I have for a long time.”   
  
She exhaled, her warm breathe making its way through the cotton of his shirt. “I’ve liked you, too.”  
  
He took the opportunity to tilt her head up and silently asked to kiss her.

Her lips were soft and dry against his own, and he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, begging for entrance; she allowed. They made their way back to the couch, and Ben pushed her down into the cushions, hovering over her, breaking apart for air. “You’re a good kisser,” she whispered, touching his lips gently.   
  
“I’m glad you think so. You’re not so bad yourself, but I can be a professor in more than just creative writing, Rey.” She giggled at the cheesiness, pulling him back down for another kiss. He palmed her breasts through her shirt and decided that he really, really needed to have sex with her, if she was okay with that, of course. “Can we continue this somewhere besides the couch?”  
  
She nodded, reaching up for him to pick her up. He carried her back into his room, gently laying her down on the bed. _God, she was a vision._ Her signature outfit of a classic sweater and leggings, her hair splayed out over the sheets. He’d dreamt of this moment more times than he could count, but never imagined that it would happen, now here he was, in her home, Rey spread out before him like a feast. 

“What?” she asked. She seemed concerned.   
  
“I’m just looking at you. You’re so beautiful,” Ben spoke quietly, sitting next to where she lay, watching her face. “Hasn’t anyone else ever told you that? Surely someone has.”  
  
“Not a boy that I liked,” she replied softly, cupping his cheek and bringing his face down to meet hers again. His kiss was gentle and passionate, and he groaned when she carded her fingers through his hair. “But you’re not a boy.”  
  
He could have replied to that with a cocky quip, but he didn’t. “Let me make love to you, please,” he said, nuzzling her jawline, his long hair tickling her neck. He raised up, watching as she nodded her approval, swallowing. 

He pulled her up into a sitting position, pulling her sweater over her head, beginning to unbutton her shirt. She traced the faint lines on his forehead with her fingers as he worked at each button. “Old man, am I?” 

“No, Ben,” she whispered, kissing him again. “You’re not.” He slid the sleeves down her arms, guiding her back down to the mattress, leaving open-mouthed kisses on her arms, gently fondling her small, perky breasts through her bralette, feeling her nipples peak under his touch.

She mewled under his touch, dusting kisses over her collarbones, lifting her bottom when he hooked his fingers into the waist of her leggings. “I want to touch you,” she whispered, causing him to stop, sit up, and look into her eyes.   
  
_How is this happening?_ He quickly stripped himself of his t-shirt, taking her hand and placing it over his heart. “This is what you’re doing to me, amongst other things,” he said, hovering over her, his clothed erection grazing her naked stomach. She giggled, stretching her neck and looking away from him. He continued pulling down her leggings, leaving her in her lacy underwear.  
  
He touched her chin, forcing her to look at him again. Touching the strap of her bralette, she knew what he wanted, arching her back to allow him to unsnap the bra, sliding the straps down her arms, revealing her breasts to him. He must’ve emitted some kind of noise of appreciation, because she giggled again, her cheeks becoming more red.  
  
Ducking down, he gave them the attention they deserved, relishing in the feeling of her fingers gently scratching his scalp and back. Taking a nipple into his mouth and gently sucking, she arched her back, moaning, then groaning when one hand made its way between her legs, feeling the damp heat coming through the lace. His entire hand was too wide to fit well in the space, and something about that thrilled him. She bucked against his hand, encouraging him to dip a finger under the fabric.  
  
He smirked when he realized how wet she was. “Good?” She nodded, her breath hitching as he gently probed one finger into her. _Damn_ , she was tight. She was going to feel amazing wrapped around him. He curled the finger, the moan that left her lips a praise he’d never forget. He then added another finger, pulling out when he heard her wince. “What’s wrong?”  
  
She shook her hear ‘no’. “It’s nothing.”  
  
He moved his fingers again, and tried adding a third, her small cry of pain difficult to ignore. “It’s not ‘nothing’,” he said, gently pulling out his fingers, putting her panties back in place. “Do you want me to lube you up a bit more? I’d love to, trust me,” he supplied with a boyish smile.  
  
“No, no… that’s not it.” Her laugh was self-deprecating, and she closed her eyes, her mouth relaxing. He was at her side, quickly, half of his body on hers. 

“We can stop,” he whispered as he kissed the skin beneath her ear. She cupped her right breast, gently raking his thumb over her nipple, trying to soothe her.   
  
“I don’t want to.” Rey’s confession was a relief to Ben.  
  
“Did you just not like what I was doing? I won’t be offended if-”

“Stop,” she said flatly, placing her hand over the hand that cupped her breast. “My devotion to my writing hasn't exactly left me with a lot of time to date, and the time that I did have to date, no one treated me like I felt like they should have, and I didn’t want to be forgotten by some frat boy.”   
  
Oh. _Oh._ ** _Oh…_**

“I’ve never done this before,” she said to the ceiling, “and I didn’t want to tell you because I did’t want you to think any less of me.”   
  
“Why would I think less of you because of that?” He was now looking her in the eyes. 

“Because I’m 24 and have less sexual experience than most 16 year olds.” Her embarrassment was written all over her face. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she turned to look at him, a silent tear flowing down her face. He kissed it away.   
  
“Do you still want to do this?” he asked, his words hot against her cheek.  
  
“Yes. Do you still want to?” She seemed stunned that he was still even in the house.  
  
Laying another gentle kiss on her lips, he quickly pulled back. “I’m not turned off by your lack of experience, and we’ll go at your pace. You tell me what feels good, and we’ll just do that.” Ben sat up, and was over her again. “If you want to stop, just say the word.” She nodded, smiling gently. This gorgeous girl… “That is, if you trust me with this more than the others.”

“Of course,” she replied quietly, pushing his hair behind one of his ears, gently smiling up at him. 

“Good.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I’ve got protection if you don’t, or even if you do. Long story short, but I always keep some in my emergency bag.” She laughed stretching her neck. “That makes me sound like one of those guys that didn’t deserve you. I probably don’t, either.”   
  
She shook her head. “No, no. I don’t think that.” It would appear that she liked his hair, because she kept carding her fingers through the waves. He gently tweaked one nipple before he began to lave on the other, rubbing her clit through her panties. Unknowingly, uncontrollably, she was rotating her hips with want.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you,” he kissed her jaw, working up to her mouth, encouraging her to open her lips with his tongue.

She moaned into his mouth, taking his head in both of her hands. Her dainty hands felt so good on his skin, soothing. “I want to taste you,” he said, lifting up, kissing her forehead.

She nodded in silence, watching as he kissed his way down her chest and stomach, slowly tugging her panties down her legs before finally throwing them to the floor. She was now completely bare before him, shocked that she was clean shaved, hairless.

As if reading his thoughts, she said, “I might not be having sex, but I do swim from time to time.”

He chuckled, looking at her for permission to get between her legs. “Put your thighs over my shoulders,” he instructed as he laid down on his front, groaning when his cock made contact with the bed. She did as he told her to, beet-red from arousal.

Sliding his hands up to her breasts, tweaking her nipples again, he pressed his lips to her center, eliciting a cry from her mouth, and then another when he separated her folds with his tongue, flicking at her clit. “Ben...” she breathed, making his cock twitch.

He decided he wasn’t going to make her come with his mouth the first time, he’d work her up, then take her. He wanted to feel her first orgasm from the ministrations of another around his cock. He continued until he felt her clench-up. “You’re sure you want this?”  
  
Rey moved her thighs from his shoulders, sitting up, panting. “I’ve wanted this for a long time,” she confessed.  
  
“Me too.” He got up from the bed and removed his jeans and underwear, then walked over to his bag to get a condom.  
  
He turned around and Rey’s eyes widened. “How in the hell is that going to fit in me?” Ben laughed loudly, covering his eyes. “I mean, I know that it can, that’s basic anatomy and biology, but I think you know what I’m getting at.” 

"Are you trying to inflate my ego to an even more obnoxious level?" He got back onto the bed, hovering over her once more. “We both still have our socks on, it seems.” He smirked, bumping his nose to hers. “I’m leaving them on. You can then remember that those were the socks you lost your virginity in.”   
  
“Oh my God,” she whined, covering her eyes once more, laughing.  
  
“I didn’t say that you had to frame them.” 

* * *

It didn’t end as quickly as it could have. He didn’t move for a solid two minutes as he allowed her to adjust to his size. It had been easy, missionary position sex, and he’d gone slow not only for her comfort, but so he didn’t come before she had the chance to, and she did. Her contractions spurred his own orgasm on, and after he pulled out and threw the condom in the trashcan in his bathroom, he got back in the bed. When she returned from her own bathroom, he pulled her to him. They shared gentle kisses and whispers before falling asleep earlier than either had planned.

Ben awoke to the light streaming in from the window, Rey using his shoulder as a pillow. Her hair was tickling his arm, and he was suddenly self-conscience about his armpit hair. What if it’s tickling her ear?

She’d fallen asleep in his arms, the sound of the dying fire crackling in front of them making the entire scenario picturesque, like something she would write about. He kissed the top of her head, before stilling himself, sniffing her hair; it smelled like rich oils and something distinctly her own. He’d spent the last six years staring at her, reading her work, fascinated by her mind. He’d spent nights wondering what she was doing, dating around, unable to ever quit thinking about the British girl that wrote about calm love. Calm love that she apparently craved to experience and never had. She’d even written about this lake house, he realized. 

This had turned out to be a much better Thanksgiving than he could have ever planned, trapped in a house with Rey. The snow still poured outside, and he could hear the wind against the house, but he was warm as could be with her snuggled against him. “Ben?” he heard, looking down at her, her eyes closed.   
  
“Yes, sweetheart?” Ben placed a finger to her lips gently, toying with her bottom lip.  
  
“Mhmmm. I like that,” she whispered, opening her eyes, reaching up for him. “Is it still snowing?” 

He nodded, kissing her forehead again. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for at least another day.” 

“I don’t mind.” Rey puled away from him, only to lightly kiss his lips. “I’ve never woken up with someone else before, at least not like this. I completely forgot about morning breath.” He kissed her again, proving a point. “Well, that settles that.” They laughed, continuing what she’d started.  


* * *

It was still morning, and Rey was already cutting up potatoes, carrots, and onions for the roast. Ben nursed his coffee as he watched her at work. “Baked apples tonight, too,” she said, nodding to the slow cooker in the corner. “We’re going to need the energy, if I’m correct in what plans you have for us today.”

“You minx,” he whispered, winking, getting a giggle from her.

“Grab that Dutch oven for me, would you?” Rey asked, chopping up the remaining vegetables. “Oh, Ben, this is so good. This was my favorite thing to eat as a little girl.” He grabbed the lidded pot and walked it over to her, watching her in what appeared to be her natural habitat. “Maz made it for me when it was really cold out. It’s the best pot roast you’ll ever have.”   
  
“Your characters cook a lot.” She looked up at him and nodded. “I suppose that you cook a lot, too, not just on vacations.” She nodded again. “Any chance I could come over for one of those meals?”  
  
“Did you sleep with me because you like my cooking?” Her smile was infectious; he could tell she had said it in jest.  
  
“Obviously.” Ben sat down on one of the stools at the island where she cooked. “In all seriousness,” he swallowed, his nerves rising, “would you want to see me again, I mean, like _this_ when we get back?

She put down the knife, dumping the vegetables in the pot. “You want to continue to have sex with me?”   
  
He chuckled, closing his eyes and shaking his head, reaching across the island for her hand. “If you’re offering, but I meant going out on dates, not just seeing me in my office or bed; that type of thing.” A weight looked as if it had literally been lifted off of her shoulders; had she wanted that, too? “There is nothing against this kind of relationship in the school policy. I’m not tenured, and I don’t really need this job. I’ll be able to live off of my series for the rest of my life, but there are no rules against what I’m suggesting.”  
  
“You’d give up your job for me?” There was a softness in her eyes as she looked at him. “You actually want to see me?”  
  
He still held her hand. “I would and do. I was serious last night: I’ve thought about you since you were a freshman. I know that I was twenty-eight eyeing an eighteen year old, but you captured me with your work. You painted pictures with words, and I wanted to be sucked into those pictures they were so beautiful. I wasn’t about to let anyone else be your advisor. I’d be damned if you spent hours on end talking about your work to anyone but me.” She was smiling. Great. “Well, blew my load there.”  
  
“No, no, no!” she exclaimed, running over to the other side of the counter, kneeling in front of him. “That was beautiful, Ben… well, before that last bit.” She took his hand in hers, kissing the knuckles. “I’d like it if you wanted to date me, properly.”  
  
“Properly?” Ben laughed, leaning down to kiss her. “My dear, there’s not a proper thing about me at all.” His phone began to ring, and just as he’d suspected, it was his mother.  
  
“Hey, mom.” Rey watched, getting up and going back to the roast. “Yeah, she’s cooking for me again. She’s quite good.” He shot her a smoldering glance, and that made her heart flutter. “We still have power. The snow’s not stopped here, either. Have dad and Uncle Luke not driven you crazy yet?” He nodded, smiling. “They do that when they get together.” She then watched as he bit his lips. “We’re doing just fine. I don’t think we need a rescue party just yet. We’ve been pretty busy.”  
  
“Ben!” Rey quietly screeched.  
  
“I’ll tell her you said that. Love you.” He hung up the phone, only to have a damp dishcloth thrown at him. “We have been pretty busy, Rey."  
  
“Oh, Ben! Now she knows what we’ve been doing. Dinner tomorrow is going to be unbearable.” He began to laugh again and walked over to where she stood, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.  
  
“It would have been unbearable anyway, and they all already thought something was going on. They’ll be thrilled to think they were right. They’re old; give them this victory. My mother said thank you for taking care of me, by the way.” 

“Someone obviously has to do it.”

* * *

He thought it was quite corny that they were now naked in front of a fireplace, on a bearskin rug. He guided her down onto him, whispering soft words in her ear. “Good girl,” he said, laying down once she was fully impaled on him. “You’re a fast learner.” 

“Ever the educator,” she supplied, putting her flat palms on his chest for support.   
  
“Damn right I am.” He reached up to take her right breast into his hand. “These are nice.” She blushed, beginning to move once his other hand landed on her hip. “Jesus Christ, you’re tight.”  
  
Rey curled over his stomach to avoid making eye contact with him after that last statement.

“You look so good. You always look good. When you come into my office in those leggings and I can see the shape of your ass but never actually see your ass… good God. Watching you walk out of my office is a fucking treat."   
  
Her eyes had closed and she was biting her lip as he continued to guide her. “I always knew you liked my leggings!” Rey replied through gritted teeth. “I like it when you have your sleeves pushed-up.”  
  
“Why? Tell me.” Oh, he needed to know. “Open your eyes and tell me.”  
  
She did as told, still slowly moving on his dick. “You have great arms, and I always wondered what it would be like if you picked me up and sat me on the desk and fucked me senseless.”  
  
He growled, pulling her down to kiss him. “That’s so hot.” They kissed again, and he spanked her ass so hard that she yelped. “Did I hurt you?” 

“I wasn’t expecting to be spanked with you inside of me.” They laughed at each other then, slowing their movements. “But I didn’t dislike it.”  
  
“I’ll find your kinks, Rey. Mark my words.” 

* * *

They sat next to each other at the kitchen table, eating the pot roast she’d made, drinking wine. “This is great,” he said, kissing her temple. “You’ve been too good to me.”

“You’ve been pretty good to me, too.” He pulled away and smirked his famous smirk, going back to the roast.  


They showered together, and it felt natural, comfortable. There were stolen kisses in the steam, and when they got out, he made them spiked hot chocolate, cuddling in front of the fire, going back to the _Game of Thrones_ episode that she’d fallen asleep during. She fell asleep again, and he carried her to her bed, tucking her in. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked.  
  
“To go sleep.”  
  
She pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed. “Not if it’s not beside me, you aren’t.”

* * *

“My dad is on his way to help pull the Jeep out, and then we’re headed to my parents’ place for Thanksgiving. I can bring you back here tonight after dinner,” he said, looking at her, still in her robe. It was already noon the next day.

She’d decided to wake him up with her first attempt at a blowjob, which he thoroughly enjoyed. It wasn’t the best he’d ever had, but he’d also never been anyone’s first anything before; not until Rey.

“They’ll be here in an hour, probably. We have time for a quickie.” Rey chuckled, running a hand through her hair.   
  
“You need to be happy I can walk,” she replied, “as ‘busy’ as we’ve been.”

“I get it, I get it,” he groaned in fake displeasure. “Later?”   
  
“Maybe.” Rey smiled as they continued to strip his sheets to load into the washer. 

* * *

“You must be Rey,” Han said as he entered the house, shoving his hand forward to shake hers. “Thanks for putting up with this one for so long.” Ben rolled his eyes, walking toward his duffle bag.

“He was no trouble at all, but that’s largely because I learned how to deal with him ages ago.” Ben chuckled at that. 

“You sound just like my wife,” Han replied with a smirk. “She says the same thing about me.”   
  
Ben, almost instantly, realized all of the similarities between his mother and Rey, his father and himself. As disturbing as that was, it was also a comfort to some extent. It felt familiar. 

“Come on, son. Let’s move your car.” Han walked on out, headed toward his own truck with all of the chains needed to move the vehicle.

“I’m going to go help dad move my Jeep out of the ditch, and then we’ll be on our way. Are you ready?” She nodded.  
  
“I am.” 

* * *

“I’m so nervous,” Ben said as they parked the Jeep in his parents’ driveway. “My mom is going to make such a big deal out of you being here."

“Is it a big deal?” There was that smile, that sparkle in her eyes.   
  
“I guess it is now, isn’t it?” he observed. She leaned over and kissed him thoroughly before pulling away. She opened her door, urging him to turn off the SUV and exit himself. “You’re never going to wait for me to open a door for you, are you?”  
  
“I’m perfectly capable of opening my own door. Would you like to open a door for me?” He nodded that he indeed would. “It would appear as if we are about twenty steps from another door, so here’s your chance.” 

Ben put his hand on her shoulder. “I would hold your hand right now, but I can almost guarantee you that my mom is looking out the window oohing over you. I don’t want to make you feel any more uncomfortable than you are likely to feel.”  
  
“Your mother can’t be that bad, Ben.” As she spoke, he opened the door. 

Leia Organa stood right in the doorframe. “Ben!” The older woman hugged her son, kissing his cheek. “And your guest!”  
  
“Mother…” 

“Oh, Rey, sweetheart! It’s so great to meet you!” Leia’s enthusiasm made Ben cringe but didn’t seem to bother Rey at all. “He’s never brought a girl home for a holiday before.”   
  
“He’s never brought a girl here for anything since prom,” Han supplied, smirking, watching for Ben’s reaction. 

Ben didn’t see the need to correct them; _I’m her advisor for her MFA_. He knew it was more than that now. He suspected that Rey did, too. “You must be Mr. Skywalker!” Rey exclaimed, looking toward his uncle. “I read your entire _Lost Naut_ trilogy when I was in high school. I’m sure you can imagine my shock when Ben revealed that you were his uncle.” 

Luke smiled gently. “You know, I’ve been thinking about writing some prequel novels for that series. My publisher would certainly love that, but I’m glad that you enjoyed them.”

Leia ushered everyone into the dining room, having already put all of the food on the table. “You don’t have to have Thanksgiving on Thanksgiving Day,” Leia muttered, making sure everyone was seated before she sat down herself. “And you’re driving Rey back tonight, correct?” she motioned toward Ben.

“I am.” He looked over at Rey sitting next to him, watching as she took a sip of water. “Do you want something besides water? This is a boring, no alcohol until after dinner, no sugary drinks household, but-”  
  
“Benjamin!” his mother exclaimed. “We are not boring.”  
  
“The kid has a point, sweetheart,” Han laughed, looking over at Ben. “That happens with old age, you two.” 

“Rey, Ben tells us you’re a great writer,” Luke said, looking over her way. “I take credit for getting Ben into writing, so if there is any greatness that he has, it’s really because of me.” The look on his face said that he was being facetious. 

“I enjoy it, but Ben is really the talent. He’s the most observant writer I’ve ever seen. He noticed that many of my short stories have taken place in houses much like my lake house.” Rey glanced over at Ben, who was smiling gently, avoiding eye contact with everyone at the table.  


* * *

Rey and Leia were talking in the kitchen, and Luke had gone outside with his telescope - he finally had a clear sky to look into. “Did the emergency bag come in handy?” Han asked Ben, putting his hand on his shoulder. Ben’s eyes widened. “I checked the bag before we sent you off. You’ve kept up a tradition that your old man started for you, haven’t you, son?” Ben shook his head, grumbling. “Well?"

“Thank you,” Ben said, looking at him. “They… they came in handy.” He took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. “Oh, this is so weird: talking to you about my sex life.”  
  
His father smirked. “Your mother said that this one sounded like a keeper. Is she?” Han asked, still looking at Ben. 

Turning his head to look at Rey talking to his mother in the next room, he replied, “Yeah. She is.” Han lightly chuckled, both of his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“I’m proud of you, kid.” 

* * *

He drove Rey back to New Vineyard, their hands interlaced; it felt natural, as if they’d been doing this for years. The snow had all been pushed to the side of the road, and the asphalt was now clear.

“I noticed that your dad calls your mom ‘sweetheart’ a lot,” Rey said, squeezing his hand. “You’ve been calling me ‘sweetheart' a lot these last few days.” 

Ben gulped. “Do you not like that?”   
  
“No, no. I like it a lot. No one’s ever called me that before.” He glanced over to her, gently smiling.

They pulled into her driveway, parking, and Ben looked back at where the mailbox was laying on the ground. “I’ll replace it.”

“No,” she whispered, looking at him lovingly, “don’t worry about it.”  
  
“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t? I think I can spring it; I don’t write YA for nothing.” Rey giggled, leaning up to kiss him.  
  
“Are you going to stay?” she asked him as he turned off the vehicle.  
  
“If you want me to.” She looked tired, but tired sex could be good sex. A little gentle loving making would be nice. 

“You’re sure your family won’t mind?” Ben smirked, opening his door as she did the same. He shut it with a slam. He quickly made it over to the other side of the car to open her door.  
  
Opening the door, he continued: “I’m a thirty-three year old man, Rey. They know that… I mean, my father started the tradition of condoms in my emergency bag when I was seventeen. And if you couldn’t tell, you charmed my entire family tonight. My mom would probably let you have my old room if you wanted to move in permanently.”  
  
Rey smiled. “I like your family.” They walked toward the front door as she rummaged through her coat pockets for the keys. “It’s so obvious how much each of them loves you.” She unlocked the door, turning on the lights. 

As she walked in and began to take off her coat, gloves, and scarf, Ben stood in the doorway and watched her. He wanted her to be at every Thanksgiving with his family, every Christmas, every Easter, every fourth of July. They didn’t even have a relationship title at this point: boyfriend, girlfriend, that bullshit, but he knew that he wanted to wake up in this lake house with her every Thanksgiving morning. He wanted to love Rey for the rest of his life. He wanted to be her family.

Was is possible to fall in love over the course of a few days, or had he been in love with her since he met her six years ago? 

“Ben?” She was staring at him now, concern written on her pout. “Are you alright?”   
  
He shut the door and walked toward her, putting her head in his hands, kissing her passionately. They broke apart for air, a thin line of saliva connecting them, neither seeming to care.  
  
“Never better.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment?


End file.
